Terrible Lie
by Saerry Snape
Summary: Post OOTP. Harry Potter slowly spirals into a pit of despair after the death of his godfather, never showing this on the outside. But the arrival of a second year from Durstrang completely turns Harry's world upside down. And shows him a few things abo
1. Pain in the Night

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Harry Potter.  All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination.  Do not sue.

Terrible Lie By Saerry Snape Chapter 1 – Pain in the Night 

It was a dark, gloomy night in Little Whinging.  Since the beginning of the summer, it had been gloomy day and night.  The weatherman had been clueless to what was going on as other places were enjoying the normal weather for the time.

Except for Little Whinging.

In one house on Privet Drive, a dim light burned in an upstairs window.  A young man with wild, dark hair lay facedown on a slightly battered mattress that sat on the floor.  One of his arms was thrown out from under the blanket he lay under, revealing a number of pale scars just above his elbow.  The pads of his fingertips barely touched the corner of a photo album that lay open on the floor beside the mattress.

On a desk across the room, a lamp devoid of a lampshade burned brightly, its light casting the dark hair on the other side of the room into shades of dark gray and an even darker blue.  At the base of the lamp sat a small boom box, its speakers issuing forth music with a dark beat.

I hurt myself today To see if I still feel I focus on the pain The only thing that's real The dark head on the mattress shifted slightly at the words, as though they had touched something in it.  Slowly, the head lifted, revealing a tear-streaked face hidden by a mop of wild dark hair that cascaded down past their shoulders.  Brilliant emerald eyes that were red-rimmed peered through the cloud of dark hair. On the other side of the room, the song continued on. The needle tears a hole 

_The old familiar sting_

_Try to kill it all away_

But I remember everything 

Harry Potter slowly turned his head and looked at the photo album lying on the floor.  The pads of his fingertips hid one of the faces in the pictures and he pulled it back, revealing the jovial face of his godfather.  The vibrant young Sirius grinned up at him then turned Remus' (whose back was turned) hair green.

That sight brought both tears and laughter into the emerald eyes.  He liked to remember his godfather like he'd been before Azkaban, before Harry'd known him.

He'd been a happier man, then.

What have I become? 

_My sweetest friend_

_Everyone I know_

Goes away in the end 

_How true_, thought Harry bitterly as he rolled onto his back, the song echoing in his ears.  _First my parents, then Cedric - and now Sirius.  Life is so fucked up._

And indeed it was.  Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Harry had been pursued by Lord Voldemort, the madman who had been the cause of all three of the aforementioned people's death.  Sirius' death hadn't been caused by the wizard himself, but it had become a possibility by the wizard's words that had been spread by Kreacher.

Harry had been the real cause of Sirius' death.  Much like his parents (though this point hadn't been proved, Harry believed as such) and Cedric.  If he hadn't been born, his parents might still be alive (then again, maybe not).  If he'd just taken the cup like Cedric wanted, the loyal Hufflepuff captain would still be alive.  If he hadn't listened to Kreacher, Sirius would still be alive.

There was too much suffering.  Too much pain.

And he was the cause of all of it.

You could have it all 

_My empire of dirt_

_I will let you down_

I will make you hurt 

Ever since his fifth year had ended and he'd returned to his relatives home, he had been steadily falling deeper and deeper into despair.  The loss of his godfather in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries had hit him harder than any other loss.  He'd never missed his parents as he'd never known them and Cedric he had never really know that well.

But Sirius…he'd been his last hope for escaping the Dursley's.  Now he was gone – _dead_ – and Harry was once again trapped with his relatives.  Harry Potter, zilch; Gods-Who-Screw-With-Mortals-Lives, four hundred and forty-two.

At least the Dursley's had been more…tolerable since Moody had come and had a word with them.  That was right after Harry had gotten back.  Uncle Vernon had locked him up almost immediately, leaving him with only the battered mattress and lamp.  Everything in his 'bedroom' had been taken out except for the mattress and lamp.

Light and a place to sleep.  Of course, if the bulb blew he'd be stuck in the dark.  They'd never give him another bulb.

But it didn't matter.  Harry hadn't been afraid of the dark for years.

Sleeping in a cupboard since you were two-and-a-half years old could do that to you.

Moody's visit had changed that.  He had scared the Dursley's enough that they were not only allowing Harry out of his 'room', they were ignoring him completely.  The dark-haired teen had wondered what the old Auror had said to them – and where he could learn it.

That had been almost two months ago.  Harry's birthday had come and gone, along with Mrs. Weasley's request for him to be allowed to stay the last two weeks of the summer at the Burrow.  Dumbledore had, yet again, turned it down.  Said he'd be safer with his blood relatives.

_I'd rather be happy than safe_, thought Harry bitterly as he remembered the letter Mrs. Weasley had sent him later that day.  She promised to see him at King's Cross.

It didn't help him feel any better.

I wear my crown of shit 

_On my liar's chair_

_Full of broken thoughts_

I cannot repair 

Since summer's beginning and his trip into his despair, Harry had also slowly become darker.  All the clothes from the Goth stage Dudley had had while he was at Hogwarts had come to him and he'd taken to them like a duck to water.  Black was the color for despair and he wondered if _that_ was perhaps the reason Snape always wore it.

Or maybe he _liked_ to look like a huge black bat swooping up and down the corridors.

His taste in music had also changed – not that he'd had much taste in the first place.  The Dursley's had never allowed him anything that played music and he'd only heard it when Dudley had turned his radio up loud enough to flow down to the cupboard.  But now, Harry had the boom box (which he had found in the attic) and had begun to gather a collection of CD's.

He had listened to Dudley's music enough for years to know that it was _not_ the sort of music he wanted.  Dudley listened to what Americans called 'bubblegum pop'.

Absolutely disgusting.

Harry had far other ideas to what music should be.  He had two CD's of a Goth metal band who's name he would not pronounce (and apparently neither could anyone else) and everything else was American metal music or hard rock.  His current CD collection was small but he liked it and that was all that mattered.  There were maybe fifteen CD's in his arsenal, which ranged from the unpronounceable Goth metal band to Nine Inch Nails.

The latter was what he was currently listening to.

Beneath the stain of time The feeling disappears You are someone else I am still right here Harry liked them.  The leader singer reminded him slightly of Snape (a younger, cleaner Snape but Snape nonetheless) but that hadn't put him off.  He'd gotten every one of their CD's that he could get ahold of and that had ended up being four – five, if you counted that there were two CD's in one of the cases. 

With the Dursley's generally ignoring him, Harry tended to stay up in his room.  He lay on the battered mattress that had become his bed and just let the harsh sounds of his music roll over him.  Uncle Vernon was too afraid of Moody returning to do anything to him.

Which left Harry with a very boring summer.

And nothing to take his thoughts off of his dead godfather.

What have I become? 

_My sweetest friend_

_Everyone I know_

Goes away in the end 

That was what Harry was doing now in the dark of night.  The image of his godfather falling back through the Veil was imprinted forever into his mind, a scene that he could not rid himself of.

Sirius would never get a grave, would never see his name cleared – a thing that Harry had sworn to see done even if it killed him.  He would show the wizarding world that his godfather had _not_ betrayed his parents.  Wormtail would _rot_ in Azkaban for that betrayal.

That thought was perhaps all that kept the young man going.  That and the thoughts of his friends.  Ron and Hermione would be devastated if he did something stupid like commit suicide.  Harry _had_ considered it.  He really had.  But something in him had talked him out of it.

Something that talked in a voice rather annoyingly like Hermione's when she was doing her Professor McGonagall imitation.  Or that was what Harry referred to it as.  He doubted she would like the name but she _did_ do an excellent McGonagall imitation.

Harry sighed and rolled over onto his stomach again.  He closed the photo album as he did so and shoved it underneath the mattress.  If Dudley found it, he'd surely lose the precious book of photo's that Hagrid had given him.

He wasn't sure what'd he'd do if the photo's got burned.  They were his last link to his parents and now Sirius.

You could have it all 

_My empire of dirt_

_I will let you down_

I will make you hurt 

Emerald eyes drifted closed, the tears shed earlier still shining on Harry's cheeks.  He hadn't bothered to brush them away.  It'd been so long since he'd actually cried, that he didn't even know he had.

The cupboard and Uncle Vernon's belt had broken him.  As a young and confused child, he'd begged his uncle not to throw him in the cupboard.  His begging had only infuriated the man and the belt had been taken to him.

He still had scars on his back from those early beatings.  No one knew of them.  It wasn't as if they'd care anyway.

Well, that wasn't true.  Ron and Hermione would care.  So would the Weasley's.  Harry knew that.

But the rest of the wizarding world wouldn't.  He was nothing but an idol to them.  An idol and the dam between the oncoming threat of Voldemort and them.

The problem was that Harry didn't want to be that dam anymore.

He didn't want to be famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.  He just wanted to be _Harry_.

The world just wouldn't let him.

If I could start again 

_A million miles away_

_I would keep myself_

I would find away 

As the song ended, Harry opened his eyes, wondering who _was_ Harry?  Truly?  Was he the Golden Boy of Gryffindor?  The Boy-Who-Lived?  Or was he the young man who lay on a battered mattress listening to a song that told a tale much like his own?

Harry preferred the last one.

He hated being the Boy-Who-Lived.  Even the title was disgusting.  When he had thought about it, he had decided that his title should really be the Boy-Who-Lived-Whilst-His-Parents-Were-Murdered.  That was what had happened.  Why wasn't he called by what had happened?

His parents had given their _lives_ for him.  And yet the wizarding world refused to believe that Voldemort, the very monster who had murdered them before Harry had had a chance to know their faces, had returned.

Harry felt it was a disgrace to their memory.

And that prophecy…  Harry hated it as well.  Why should a few words foretell his future?  Could they keep him alive in a battle?

The answer was 'no'.  Only his magic could keep him alive and he knew it.  A bit of hand-to-hand fighting skill wouldn't hurt either.  Wizards relied too much on magic in their fights.  Any Muggle who could dodge a curse could get them eventually.  Or sneak up behind them and strike them down.

Magic wasn't everything.  Harry knew that.

With a heavy sigh, he brushed his dark hair back from his face and curled up into a ball.  The blanket he jerked up to his chin and buried his face in.

Sleep was inching its dark tendrils into his mind and the nightmares of old were looming up.  But Harry had been doing a little reading up on Occlumency as of late (Hermione had sent him a few books on it for his birthday) and he felt he was rather good with it now.  He'd taken a suggestion from one of his books and had been practicing on 'locking' his thoughts away in his mind.  It had worked much better than Snape's method of clearing his mind, which Harry had never understood completely.

His mind blank of nothing but the words of the next song on the CD, Harry relaxed and let Sleep have him.

**A/N:** Title of this story is taken from a Nine Inch Nails song and the song lyrics within this chapter are from the NIN song "Hurt".  Everyone enjoy the dark melodies…


	2. Darkness Creeping In

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination. Do not sue.

**Terrible Lie**

**By Saerry Snape**

**Chapter 2 – Darkness Creeping In**

September 1st crept around and Harry found himself standing alone at the entrance of King's Cross. His trunk sat on the concrete beside him and he held Hedwig's cage loosely in one hand. To him, nothing had changed. But to everyone else…there was a stranger standing there.

That was just what Ron and Hermione saw when they arrived at the station. A tall figure in baggy black jeans that sported several buckles and zippers, a fishnet shirt thrown over a blood red muscle shirt, short gloves with the fingers cut out of them, and a pair of scuffed combat boots. Chin-length black hair that shone dark blue in places and spiked wildly out of control whilst hiding a slightly lean face.

"Who's that?" asked Ron, peering at the dark clad figure.

Hermione just shrugged then jumped back as Hedwig leapt from where she had been perched inside the car and took flight.

"_Hedwig!_"

The dark figure turned and the two caught a flash of green eyes half hidden by dark hair before the snowy owl landed on the person's uplifted arm.

"Hey, girl," whispered Harry to the owl. "Miss me?"

"T-who," answered Hedwig, rustling her feathers.

"Yeah, me too." He then looked towards Ron and Hermione and waved. "Ron! Mione!"

Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione squeaked, "_HARRY?!_"

Harry grinned sheepishly as they came towards him, their eyes as wide as saucers. He reached up to brush back his mop of wild hair, revealing the jagged scar on his forehead.

"Hi, guys."

"What'd you do?" gasped Ron, staring at his friend.

"You mean the outfit?" At his friends nods, Harry shrugged and added, "Dudley went through a Goth stage over last term. I got everything when he finally figured out Goth's not for him."

"I thought your cousin was big," said Ginny as she walked up, eying him up and down with what Harry could only guess was approval.

"Weeeell…Tonks popped in to check on me once and she shrunk everything for me. C'mon, I've been standing here waiting for you guys for half-an-hour. Let's go get on the train."

Hedwig hooted her agreement and Harry grinned at her.

"You too, girl? Come _on_, guys!"

Ginny gave her brother and Hermione a glance before she walked over to where Harry was hefting his trunk up onto a trolley, Hedwig now sitting in her cage watching him. He looked up at her as soon as he got it up and said, "Hey."

"Hi," murmured Ginny. She could already feel her cheeks burning as she continued, "I like your outfit."

Harry just laughed and said, "So, somebody else _did_ get Bill's taste in clothing!"

Ginny's entire face burned red and Harry smiled at her.

"Hey, I think that's great. And…is that an earring?"

The redhead blushed to the roots of her hair and hurriedly hid the gold stud in her left ear behind her hair. "Don't tell Mum," she hissed, "she'll kill me."

Harry just grinned and said, "Secret's safe with me. Say…where's your trunk?"

"At the car. Why?"

"Well, you can stack your trunk on top of mine and then we won't need so many trolley's."

"I couldn't…"

"Sure you can," said Harry, grabbing her hand. "C'mon."

Ginny flushed darkly as Harry began to pull her and the trolley towards the car. She wondered for a moment why she had to walk faster to keep up with him and then she realized why. The year before, Harry had been barely taller than Hermione. Now he was a good two heads taller than Ginny, who was about the same height as the older girl. And the tight muscle shirt revealed the smooth lines of his chest…

_Stop that!_ screamed Ginny at herself furiously. _You are not going to get a crush on Harry again!_

So she thought. But Harry had, instead of being the boy you could look over at a glance, was becoming a little bit more. He was taller and leaner and Ginny had to admit he looked good.

"Which one?" said Harry's voice suddenly, breaking into her train of thought.

"What?"

"Which trunk's yours?" asked Harry. He then frowned at her and added, "You okay?"

"Fine!" squeaked Ginny, her cheeks flushing scarlet. She pointed at the trunk by his feet and said, "That's it."

"Okay. Want to give me a hand? I barely got mine on the trolley and I don't think I can manage yours."

"O-okay," said Ginny, moving to one side of the trunk. Harry grabbed the other and smiled at her over the top.

"On three," he said. "One – two – three – _heave!_"

"_Ooo!_" squealed Ginny as they slung her trunk up onto the trolley. She lost her balance and began to topple over…until a pair of fishnet clad arms caught her. The redhead blushed furiously again as Harry smiled amusedly down at her.

"Okay there?"

"Fine," mumbled Ginny. She hurriedly pulled herself away from him and tried to regain what composure she had left. Harry gave her another amused smile then grabbed the trolley with their trunks and Hedwig's cage and began to walk towards the station entrance. She jogged to catch up with him and found herself easily falling into a stride that matched his.

Behind them, Ron scowled darkly. Hermione, noticing this, glanced at the disappearing Harry and Ginny then batted the tall boy's arm.

"Ron! Stop that!"

"What?" growled Ron.

"Stop glaring at Harry."

"I can't help it. Ginny's acting all weird around him and so's he."

Hermione sighed heavily and said, "Ron…don't worry about it. You know Harry would never do anything to hurt Ginny. And that's _if_ something's going on between them."

"Something had better not be going on!" snarled Ron, earning a smarting blow from the bushy-haired girl on his shoulder.

"_Ronald Weasley!_ I can't believe you!"

"What?" asked Ron, looking confused and rubbing his shoulder.

Hermione growled softly and spat, "I'm not going to explain it to you." She then grabbed the trolley her trunk had been loaded onto and began to walk off with hurried strides. Ron gaped after her for a moment before he grabbed his own trolley and began to jog after her.

"Mione, wait up!"

Hermione kept walking but she did slow down enough that Ron didn't have to run to catch up with her. As he settled into a walk beside her, he said softly, "I'm sorry."

"That was quick."

"Eh?"

"A quick apology. Generally it takes you a week or two."

Ron wrinkled his nose then looked up to see Harry and Ginny disappearing through the barrier. He sighed heavily at the sight, earning a frown from Hermione.

"Don't start," she growled.

"Start what?" asked Ron.

"_I give up!_" yelled Hermione and shoved her way past him. She vanished through the barrier, leaving Ron to hurry through after her.

"Mione! C'mon, Mione, I was joking!"

"Don't think she took it as one," remarked Ginny as the bushy-haired girl kept walking down the platform, the wheels of her trolley squealing.

Harry winced at the sounds and stuck one of his finger in his right ear, twisting it. "Someone needs to oil that one," he remarked.

Ron frowned at his best friend and said, "Its not that loud."

"Sounds like it. Let's get after Hermione."

"Aw," said a sneering voice from behind them, "has the Mudblood finally run off?"

Ron whirled around to snap, "Sod off, Malfoy!" The only sign that Harry had heard the blonde Slytherin was the tightening of his shoulders.

"What's wrong, Potter? Scared?"

Harry turned around slowly, his eyes lazily locking with Malfoy's. His upper lip drew back from his teeth in an elegant sneer and he spat, "The day I'm scared of your simple words, Malfoy, will be the day I turn myself willingly over to Voldemort. As we know _that's_ not going to happen, neither is the first. So why don't you slither off like the snake you are?"

"Grew a backbone, did we?" remarked Malfoy. "If only you'd had it earlier. Might've saved your godfather…"

"Harry, _no!_" shrieked Ginny as Harry threw himself bodily onto Malfoy. The two of them fell to the concrete floor of the platform and there was a sickening _thud_ as Harry's fist connected with the blonde's jaw.

He then grabbed the Slytherin's collar and began to beat his head against the platform floor.

"Never…mention…Sirius…again…you…trite…bastard!"

"Harry, let him go!" yelled Ginny, jerking on the dark-haired boy's arm. "You're going to hurt him! Ron, help me!"

Ron leapt forward and grabbed his friend's other arm. The two of them pulled Harry off of Malfoy bodily and dragged him off, leaving the blonde on the ground.

They dragged him onto the train and threw him into a cab that Hermione had settled in. The bushy-haired girl blinked as Harry was tossed onto the seat across from her and began to scowl darkly at Ginny and Ron.

"I'm glad we're early," remarked Ginny. "Harry, what were you thinking?"

Harry just scowled at her then looked away. Locks of wild hair fell over his face and seemed to block him off from them.

Ginny frowned while Ron shifted nervously before saying, "I'm going to go get the trunks." As he left, Hermione looked at Ginny.

"What happened?"

"Harry attacked Malfoy."

"He insulted Sirius," snarled the young man. He turned blazing green eyes on the two girls and spat, "Am I just supposed to let that slip by?"

"He was just goading you!" cried Ginny. "Like he always does."

Hermione nodded and said, "You shouldn't let him get to you, Harry."

Harry just fixed the two of them with a dark scowl then looked out the window. Ginny looked helplessly at Hermione, who shrugged and mouthed 'Let him cool down.' The redhead nodded and left the cab to go see how Ron was doing with their trunks.


	3. Darkness Creeping Out

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination. Do not sue.

**Terrible Lie**

**By Saerry Snape**

**Chapter 3 – Darkness Creeping Out**

"You okay?" asked Ginny as she settled down next to Harry later. The dark-haired boy was staring out at the fields they were passing and didn't acknowledge her. She was about to move away when he finally spoke in a soft voice.

"It was my fault."

Ginny frowned and said, "What was?"

"Sirius," replied Harry, bowing his head. "I got him killed."

"Harry, no…"

"_No_," spat Harry, turning to look at her. "I did. I got him killed. If I hadn't gone to the Ministry, he'd never have followed, and he'd still be alive!" He then turned back towards the window and murmured, "Maybe it would have been better if I'd never been born."

A look of shock crossed Ginny's face and she felt a sudden urge to hug the boy beside her. So she did.

Harry stiffened at the contact, the nerves in his back screaming at the sudden memory of Uncle Vernon's belt. Even after five years of not having it whipped across his back, he still remembered those beatings. And so did his body.

Slowly, he forced himself to relax. He leaned into the offered embrace and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" asked Ginny, peering up at him.

Harry shrugged and replied, "I don't know. I figured I'd go ahead and apologize for anything else stupid I do this year."

Ginny chuckled softly at that.

"You never do anything without a reason. No need to apologize."

"I shouldn't let Malfoy get to me. You and Mione are right."

"Yeah, well," said Ginny, looking at the other side of the cab. Ron and Hermione had vanished long ago to the Prefect's car, leaving the two alone except for Hedwig. "I felt like punching him myself if that makes you feel any better."

Harry smiled and said, "Only a little."

"Better than none. What's up with the hair?"

"What?" asked Harry, glancing up at the wild mop.

"It's even wilder than before. And there's blue highlights in it."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Its only in certain light but its there."

"Well," said Harry. "I never noticed that before. Weird." He then looked at his watch and jumped, hissing, "Aw, shite, we're nearly there!"

"How do you know?" asked Ginny, wondering when Harry had begun to curse as he hauled out his trunk. Harry held up his watch, of which the face the flashing _'Almost to Hogwarts!'_

"Cool."

"Yeah," said Harry as he pulled out his robes. "Remus said…he said Sirius wanted me to have it."

Ginny smiled and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just offered that gesture. Harry turned his head to smile at her and he patted her hand before he began to close his trunk. Just before the lid shut, Ginny swore she saw the edge of a Muggle contraption her father had shown her once.

"Was that a…er, oom mox?"

Harry gave her an amused look and said, "Boom box?"

"Yes! Dad can never pronounce things."

"I know."

Ginny frowned as he slid his trunk back underneath his seat. After a moment, she said, "But…Muggle electronics don't work in Hogwarts. Hermione's told me that too many…"

"…times for you to count," finished Harry. "Yeah, I know. Remus is actually quite good with machinery. With a little help from Tonks, he programmed it to work off a small amount of magical energy. Cool, huh?"

"So, now we have music?"

Harry just grinned at her then stood up to pull on his robe. He glanced at his watch again and said, "It says we need to hurry up."

"_Five minutes until Hogsmeade station. All Hogwarts students please put on your robes. I repeat, five minutes until Hogsmeade station._"

Ginny squeaked and scrabbled for her trunk whilst Harry watched in amusement. Two minutes later, the two of them were stepping down off the train. Ron and Hermione joined them as they weaved their way towards the spot where the 'horseless' carriages were.

Harry winced slightly as he saw the Thestrals. The horse-like creatures turned their heads towards him, white eyes glowing bright as the one closest to him nickered softly.

Ginny looked at him in confusion and he turned haunted green eyes towards her.

"Thestrals," was all he said, falling into an eerie quiet a moment later. Ginny squeezed his hand sympathetically, earning a dark scowl from Ron's direction.

The four of them climbed into a carriage in silence and stayed silent as the Thestrals attached to it carried them up towards the castle.

* * *

"Tuck in!" said Dumbledore after the Sorting had finished.

As Ron practically dove into the food that appeared, Hermione frowned down the table. Harry noticed it and said, "Mione?"

"Hmm?"

"Something wrong?"

Hermione turned to look at Harry, who was looking at her with one eyebrow arched slightly.

"Nothing's wrong," she said slowly. "But…do you recognize that girl?"

"Which one?" asked Harry, looking down the table. He caught sight of a pair of dark green eyes partially hidden by a cloud of wild, dark hair and continued, "Dark hair and green eyes?"

"Yes. I've never seen her before."

"Me neither. Ginny, what about you?"

"What?" asked Ginny, looking up from where she'd been watching her brother stuff his face in disgust.

"The girl down there," replied Harry. "Do you know her?"

Ginny looked down the table and shook her head slowly.

"No. She's not a first year."

"No, they're all sitting at the other end."

"So, who is she?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged and said, "That's the million dollar question, isn't it? I suppose we'll find out."

The moment he said that, Dumbledore stood up and called for attention again.

"Forgive me for my old mind, I have forgotten one important announcement. It seems that there is a new student among the second year Gryffindors." He nodded towards the scarlet table and continued, "Miss duMornè?"

The girl that Hermione had been wondering about stood up and walked up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. As Harry watched her go up to stand in front of the Head Table, he noticed that Snape was staring at the girl with what could only be shock on his pale face. Then black eyes locked with green and the Potions Master sneered at the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry offered a scowl back then turned his attention back to the girl, who was shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Miss duMornè has been transferred from the Durmstrang Institute of Magic just this morning. I am charging the Gryffindor Prefects to show her to her classes and all of Gryffindor House to make her feel welcome." He smiled kindly at the girl, who returned the smile before returning to her seat.

As she walked back to her seat, Hermione stood up and leaned slightly across the table.

"Miss duMornè?"

The second year looked up in surprise and blinked at the older girl.

"Um…yes?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, sixth year Prefect. If you want, I could show you to your classes."

The girl's face broke into a gentle smile and Harry, who was watching the exchange, felt an odd sense of recognition.

"That'd be great." She then extended her hand, which was covered by a glove much like Harry's own, and said, "I'm Trish."

Hermione took the offered hand and just before Trish began to move back to her seat, Harry spoke up.

"If you want, you could sit with us."

Trish looked at him in surprise and was silent for a moment before she began, "No, I couldn't…"

"Sure, you can," piped Ginny, shoving Ron over so she could make room for the younger girl. The redhead objected to the movement but no one could understand what he said through the mound of potatoes in his mouth.

On the other side of the table, Hermione grimaced and Harry laughed as he said, "Ron, don't talk with food in your mouth."

"S'ry," mumbled Ron as Trish sat down nervously. Beside her, Ginny smiled warmly and tried to ignore her older brother.

"Hi, I'm Ginny Weasley. And the face-feeding lump behind me is my brother, Ron."

"En-u," mumbled Ron in what _might_ have been a gross maiming of 'hello'.

Trish smiled and said, "Nice to meet you."

"Harry Potter," offered Harry as she turned her gaze towards him. Her eyes widened and for a moment he thought she was going to look at his scar but no. What she said surprised them all.

"Oh! You're the one who started the Defense group last year against Ministry rules!"

All four of them stared at her after she said this.

"How'd you know about that?" gasped Ginny.

Trish smiled and replied, "I've had a pen pal here at Hogwarts since I was seven."

"Who?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Ron began to cough and ended up spewing potatoes across the table. Harry wiped a few off his face then turned a furious look on his friend.

"Sorry, mate," mumbled Ron as Hermione jabbed her wand at Harry's robes, cleaning the potatoes off.

Harry flicked a piece of potato missed off his sleeve then looked curiously at Trish.

"Could you repeat that name?"

Trish looked confused and said, "Draco Malfoy?"

Ron hissed and Harry's expression turned cold. Trish looked at Hermione and Ginny, who also had expressions of dislike on their faces.

"What's wrong?"

"Malfoy's a complete ass, that's what," snarled Ron.

"With less tact than you," commented Hermione.

"Yeah," agreed Ron until he realized what she'd said. "Oi!"

"I'd have to agree, Ron," said Harry with a laugh. "You _don't_ have any tact."

"Oh, like you do?"

Harry just grinned annoyingly then turned to look at Trish.

"So…what sort of things has our _dear, dear_ Malfoy said about us? Is he plotting to kill us?"

Trish just laughed and cried, "_What?_ Draco'd never to that."

"Are we talking about the same Malfoy?" asked Ron.

"Maybe he has a good twin who stays home," supplied Harry.

"Stop that!" said Trish. "He's really nice to me. He even speaking well about you." She nodded at Harry as she said this, causing Ginny's jaw to drop.

"No," gasped Ron, "say it's not so."

"Now I know we're not talking about the same Malfoy," muttered Harry.

"I swear he does!"

"Why the insults then?" asked Hermione. "Why does he go out of his way to throw things in our faces?"

"Well, he's a Slytherin, isn't he?" said Trish. "And there's a rivalry between their House and yours…I mean, ours."

"Yeah," said Ron. "So?"

"So…he's a Death Eater's son, right? He's got to keep up appearances. Can't go making friends with Muggleborns or the Boy-Who-Lived, now can he?"

"I'm really beginning to hate that title," snarled Harry.

Trish smiled in a sympathetic way and continued, "He's really a nice guy. You've just got to get past his guard."

"With a sword?" asked Ron, earning an elbow in his ribs from Ginny. "Ow…"

Their conversation about Malfoy turned to talk of Dumbledore's Army, which was the line of conversation until Dumbledore stood and announced the singing of the school song. Harry and Ron grinned at each other and broke into a slow funeral march like Fred and George did in their first year. Ginny joined them with a bouncy beat, while Hermione settled for slow and smooth. Trish just laughed and joined Harry and Ron in their march, her voice an octave above theirs.

The three Gryffindors were the last one's singing and Dumbledore continued to conduct them with his wand until the end. Then he clapped his hands together and sent everyone off to bed. Hermione and Ron left to take charge of the first years, leaving Harry and Ginny with Trish.

"C'mon," said Harry to the two girls and grabbed their hands, pulling them along through the crowd.

None of them noticed a pair of dark eyes following them.

* * *

"Wicked," breathed Trish as the three of them entered the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had told Harry earlier what the password was and he'd had to laugh.

It was 'Dumbledore's Army'.

"Nice, eh?" said Harry, smiling down at the younger girl. For some reason, he felt an odd affinity towards her. And a sense of recognition that kept buzzing at the back of his mind.

"I suppose I'll continue the tour on from here?" said Ginny, looking up at the older boy.

Harry just grinned and joked, "Flee, my minions! Go and frolic as you will!"

Trish and Ginny laughed before the redhead lead the dark-haired girl towards the girl's staircase. Harry watched them go for a moment before he made his way up towards the sixth year boy's dorm. As he climbed the steps, the jovial young man of earlier was replaced by the darker youth who had attacked Draco Malfoy. The shadows seemed to surround him as he climbed the stairs, their darkness flowing smoothly in his wake.

When he reached the dorm, Harry entered and pulled off his robes, revealing the clothes he'd been wearing earlier. On the windowsill, Hedwig gave a gentle hoot before she launched herself at her master. Harry silently offered her his arm and stroked her snowy feathers. After a moment, he settled on the end of his bed and laid back. Hedwig's weight shifted from his arm to his chest and the snowy owl hooted softly.

"Well, here we are again, Hed," said Harry softly. "Back at Hogwarts. Home."

The word 'home' seemed to ring through the room and Hedwig hooted nervously, shifting on her master's chest. Harry stilled her shifting with his hand and turned to look out the window at the night sky, wondering what Voldemort was going to throw at him this year.


	4. Back Up a Minute

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination. Do not sue.

**Terrible Lie**

**By Saerry Snape**

**Chapter 4 – Back Up a Minute**

"Morning!" said Trish cheerily as she flopped down next to Harry at the Gryffindor table. The dark-haired boy let out a sullen growled and the second year smiled.

"Not a morning person?"

"Heng," replied Harry. He jabbed his fork into a bit of egg before pushing a slip of paper towards her. She frowned at it as she read it over.

"Your schedule?"

Harry grunted.

"Are your classes bad?"

"There is something unnaturally wrong with the world when we have Advanced Potions first," grumbled Hermione as she sat down across from Harry. The dark-haired boy snorted in agreement, causing the bushy-haired girl to blink.

"Your in Advanced Potions?"

Harry nodded solemnly and said, "Yeah. We _would_ have it first too, wouldn't we?"

Hermione pulled Harry's schedule across the table and exclaimed, "You have all Advanced classes! How many OWLS did you get?"

"Ten. One on the Potions practical, one on the Charms written, and two on everything else but Herbology. Got an 'E' there."

"That's great, Harry! I wonder how many Ron made…"

"Eight," replied Ginny as she sat down. "He completely bombed Potions."

"A 'P?'" asked Harry.

"Worse. A 'T.'"

"Ouch." Harry looked at Hermione and said, "Guess it'll just be you and me in Advanced Potions, Mione."

"You made the Advanced class?" gasped Ginny.

"Barely. Though I'm not sure if I really want to have another class with Snape."

"Who?" asked Trish, looking extremely confused.

"Snape," said Harry. "Professor at the right end of the Head Table in black. You can't miss him."

Trish turned to look and said, "Oh," before turning back towards Harry. "Where's his class? I have him second."

"Who do you have first?" asked Hermione.

Trish frowned and dug her schedule out of a pocket.

"McGonagall," she replied after a moment.

Ginny winced and said, "Oh, I have that last year. Your going to have to run to make it on time."

"Slightly difficult when I don't know where anything," said the second year in a slightly sarcastic way. The sarcasm reminded Harry of someone but he didn't know who.

Shrugging, he stuffed his schedule into his pocket and stood up.

"Let the tour begin, then," he said. "Mione, Ginny?"

"Breakfast," said Hermione shortly while Ginny nodded and jumped up from her seat. The three of them left the Great Hall, Harry feeling distinctly like someone was watching him.

* * *

"And last on our tour, the glorious Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom." Harry frowned and said, "I wonder if my Firebolt's still in Umbridge's office…"

"Let's hope not," said Ginny. "Professor McGonagall nearly had a heart attack when we lost to Hufflepuff last year."

Harry winced then smiled down at Trish, who was looking confused.

"Quidditch," he explained. "I got suspended from the team last year along with Ginny's brothers Fred and George."

"Why?"

"Malfoy," replied Ginny. "I hope you're let back on, Harry. I don't mind playing but you're a much better Seeker than I'll ever be."

Harry just smiled at that and looked at his watch, which was flashing the words _'Potions in five minutes!'_ He turned to the two girls and said, "To conclude our tour, I am going to run as fast as possible up to Gryffindor Tower, get my bag, and try to make it down to Potions without being late."

"Good luck!" Ginny called after him as he ran off.

* * *

Harry was fifteen minutes late to Potions. Peeves had held him up on his way to Gryffindor Tower and on his way down, the staircases had decided not to cooperate with him.

So he was fifteen minutes later. Maybe he could sneak in without Snape noticing…

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Potter!"

Harry sighed and glanced once at Snape's livid face before he moved towards the empty seat beside Hermione. He should have no he had no hope of getting past Snape.

As he sat down, Hermione leaned over and whispered, "What happened?"

"Peeves and the staircases," grumbled Harry in response. He then got out his cauldron and began to make the potion that Snape had scrawled the ingredients to across the board.

By the end of the class, Harry had deflected three pieces of dragon liver that Malfoy had tried to throw into his potion at different times during the class. Thanks to his quick work in deflecting them, his potion had turned out as perfect as Hermione's. Snape noticed this and looked particularly sullen about it.

"Bottle and leave," snapped Snape as he stalked back to the front of the classroom. "Potter, I want a word with you."

Harry nodded absently as he bottled a portion of his potion then went to clean his cauldron out in the sink. When he came back, Hermione softly asked, "What do you think he wants?"

"Dumbledore probably wants him to continue teaching me Occlumency. Those books you sent me were really helpful, by the way."

Hermione smiled as she shouldered her bad and left, promising she'd save him a seat in their next class (as they had all of their classes together). Harry nodded then waited for the classroom to clear out before he approached Snape's desk.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Snape sneered and said, "The Headmaster wishes me to continue schooling you in the art of Occlumency. As much as it pains me to deal with a dunderhead such as yourself, I shall. I expect you to be here every Wednesday night at six o' clock sharp. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get out."

Harry sneered mentally at Snape's dismissive tone then turned and stalked out, his robes flaring dramatically behind him. He stormed all the way up to Advanced Transfiguration, barely making it to his seat before McGonagall turned around from writing on the board. As class began, Hermione scooted a piece of parchment across their table towards him. It read _'What'd Snape want?'_

_'Dumbledore wants me to start Occlumency again'_ scribbled Harry in a nearly illegible scrawl. He pushed it back towards Hermione, who read it then began to write.

When the paper was moved back, it now read _'What do you think Snape will say about your extra practice?'_

_'No idea'_ wrote Harry back. _'I'm hoping I can surprise him.'_

The parchment switched hands again and Hermione smiled wryly at his answer before she tapped the sheet with her wand, causing it to disintegrate. She brushed the now imperceptible pieces off the table and turned her attention to what McGonagall was saying.

Harry, meanwhile, wasn't paying any attention. His mind was elsewhere thinking of other things.

Particularly why he felt that he'd seen Trish before.


	5. Reminders

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination. Do not sue.

**Terrible Lie**

**By Saerry Snape**

**Chapter 5 – Reminders**

"Y'know, you remind me of someone."

Harry blinked and looked up from his Charms paper at Trish. The dark-haired girl was leaning on the edge of the table, her dark green eyes fixed on his face.

"Really," he said.

"Yes. Only I can't think of who."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like I've seen you before."

"But that's impossible."

Harry smiled slightly and said, "I know."

"This is really weird."

"Mmm-hmm."

Trish sighed and flopped down into the chair sitting across from Harry. He looked at her from under a fringe of dark hair before he turned back to his paper.

"This is really hard," said Trish suddenly.

"What is?" asked Harry without looking up from his paper.

"All of this," replied Trish. "I was all settled in at Durmstrang and then my mother decides to transfer me! Without telling me!"

"Why?"

"Something about there being less demons around here."

Harry paused in his writing and slowly lifted his head to look at her.

"Excuse me, did you just say 'demons?'"

Trish just nodded and replied, "Yes. My mother's a demon slayer. Foremost in Russia."

"Demon slayer?"

"Demon slayer."

Harry was suddenly hit by an idea from behind.

"So…she taught you a few things, right?"

"I killed my first demon when I was four."

Harry took that as a 'yes' and a slow, cat-like grin spread across his face. The Slytherin half of his brain was currently waving a sign that read 'This is your chance!'

"Could you teach me?" he asked.

"To slay demons?"

"To fight."

Trish looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded and said, "Sure. But only if you teach me how to duel."

"Deal," said Harry, extending an ink spotted hand across the table. Trish took it with a wry grin and neither noticed a small spark of red light that appeared for a second between their clasped hands.

"A deal then."

"Great. When do we start?"

"We need a place to practice first."

Harry just grinned and said, "I have just the place…"

Trish nodded and said, "Tomorrow night then. After dinner."

"Alright. Meet me at the foot of the boys stair and we'll go."

Trish nodded again then yawned widely.

"I'd better get to bed," she said, yawning again. "See you in the morning, Harry."

"Night," called Harry after her as he turned back to his Charms paper.

* * *

"Eeee-_yah!_"

"WHOA!"

_Thud!_

"Ow…"

Trish frowned and peered down at the figure sprawled at her feet.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Peachy," came the grunted reply.

Harry, wincing, pulled himself up into a sitting position and shook his head slightly. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked.

"You're trying too hard. Just…do. Don't try. Just let whatever your body wants to happen, happen."

"Okay."

"Ready to go again?"

"Sure," said Harry, pushing himself up off the floor of the Room of Requirement. He walked behind Trish again, who stood very relaxed, arms at her sides.

Harry gave a little shake before he lunged at her back. There was a flash of movement from Trish and then Harry was once again lying on the floor on his back.

"Ow…again."

Trish shook her head and said, "Maybe we should try something else…"

"No," grunted Harry. "I'm going to get this if it kills me."

"At this rate, it _will_ kill you. But if you insist…"

"I do," said Harry, getting to his feet again.

"Okay," said Trish. "But if you don't get this, I'm going to have to tell the entire school that a twelve-year-old can beat the great Harry Potter."

"Oh yeah, lots of initiative for me there."

Trish just snorted and said, "Let's go then. C'mon, my wimpy friend."

"_Wimpy?_ Okay, that's it. You're going down, my short compatriot."

Trish just laughed and the training continued.

* * *

"Ron?"

"Yeah, Mione?"

"Have you noticed something…up… with Harry?"

Ron blinked at the girl and said, "No. Should I have?"

Hermione gave him a dark look and snapped, "_Yes_, you should! He's your best friend!"

"Okay, okay. What should I have been noticing?"

"He's been disappearing every night after dinner for almost three months, Ron."

"_What?_ Where's he go?"

"I don't know," replied Hermione. "But its somewhere with Trish."

"Trish?"

"The transfer student from Durmstrang."

"Oh. Well. You don't think they're…er…y'know."

Hermione scowled.

"No."

"They might be."

"_Ron!_"

"Well, they _might_," defended the ginger-haired boy.

"You wouldn't say that if it was Ginny Harry was sneaking off with."

Ron's face colored and he growled, "He'd better not be off anywhere with Ginny."

"_Honestly_! Ron, do you have to take everything so seriously?"

"No."

Hermione frowned and asked, seemingly to herself, "Why am I talking to you?"

"Because you want to find out what Harry's up to?"

"Exactly."

"What if they're snogging?"

Hermione growled and Ron backed away.

"Okay, okay. You want to follow him tonight?"

"Yes."

"Too bad its not someone else. We could use his invisibility cloak."

"True," said Hermione. "But I've got a plan."

"Do tell…"


	6. Discovering Things

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Harry Potter.  All I own is my CD collection, my copies of the five HP books, and my imagination.  Do not sue.

Terrible Lie By Saerry Snape Chapter 6 – Discovering Things 

"Here he comes."

"And there's Trish."

"Hey, he has the invisibility cloak!  Maybe they _are_ snogging…  Ow!"

"Shut up."

"Sorry.  Are we going to follow them or not?"

"Yes," replied Hermione as Harry and Trish covered themselves with the invisibility cloak.  She pulled out the Marauder's Map and tapped it with her wand, causing Ron's eyes to widen.

"_The Map!_  How'd you get it?"

"Stole it from Harry's trunk."

Ron blinked at the girl beside him for a few moment before he said, "We are a bad influence on you."

"Thanks.  _I solemnly swear I am up to no good!_"

The map sprawled out across the yellowed parchment in its green ink and the two of them watched two dots that were labeled Trish duMornè and Harry Potter walk down the corridor.  Hermione suddenly noticed something and said, "Hey, look…"

"What?"

"At Harry's name.  Its…smudged."

Ron blinked and leaned forward to peer at the map.  Indeed Harry's name on the map looked smudged.  Like the map was confused on what his name was.  Trish's looked slightly smudged as well.

"Weird."  The two dots then turned a corner and he exclaimed, "Let's go before we lose them!"

Hermione nodded and the two of them ran out of the common room, leaving the Fat Lady muttering about children charging back and forth.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione and Ron tracked Harry and Trish to the Room of Requirement.  They looked at each other then each pictured Harry in their minds.  The door to the room appeared and Hermione rushed forward to throw it open.

Both of their jaws dropped at what they saw inside the room.

Metal flashed as Trish slashed a curved katana at Harry's midriff.  The older Gryffindor jumped backwards and slashed his own katana at her head.  She ducked away from it, jabbing her sword at him again.

Ron's jaw dropped as he watched the fighting.  He thought they were fighting for real.

But Hermione could see that they were _practicing_.  Their ducks and dodges were so smooth and fluid that it had to be practice.  And none of their slashes or jabs drew blood.

What Hermione really noticed was the fact that Harry wasn't wearing a shirt.  He wasn't built but he had enough muscle to catch the eye.  Muscle that had obviously been developed over three months of nightly spares with Trish as well as Quidditch practices.

"What _is_ she?" gasped Ron as Trish leapt into the air and seemed to hang there for a moment before she dropped, her foot lashing out at Harry's head.  The dark-haired boy ducked and rolled to his left, katana flashing as he came up in a crouch.

Trish landed cat-like and stood, stretching.  She then laughed and said, "That was a great warm-up!"

Harry grinned and rose to his feet as well, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.  "Definitely," he agreed.  He then noticed that there were being watched and turned towards the door.

"Hi, Ron, Mione.  How are you two?"

"What are you doing keeping this from us?" demanded Hermione, suddenly regaining her composure.  She stormed forward and glared up at Harry, her fists planted firmly on her hips.

Harry's grin faltered and he replied, "You didn't need to know."

"Harry!"

"He's right," said Trish.  "We made a deal.  I teach him to fight, he teaches me to duel.  Now, if you'll excuse us…"

"Waitaminute!" said Ron.  "What do you mean _your_ teaching him to fight.  You're only twelve!"

Trish scowled and snapped, "I may be twelve but my mother taught me well!  I'm a better fighter than most Aurors!"

Ron gaped and Hermione looked impressed at these words.

Harry just shook his head and sheathed his katana, setting it down on the table where his shirt lay.  He picked it up and shook it out before pulling it over his head.

"Anything else you two wanted?"

"No," said Ron.

"Can we watch?" asked Hermione.

Harry looked questioningly at Trish, who shrugged and sheathed her katana.  He then nodded and drew his wand before stepping into a bronze circle set into the floor.  Trish stepped into a similar one across the room and lifted her wand.

"Ready?" called Harry.

"Aye," replied Trish.  "What are we doing today?"

"How about…no rules?  Excepting anything illegal."

A glint came into Trish's eyes and she said, "Just what I've been wanting to hear for three months.  You, my friend, are dead."

Harry smiled a cat's smile and purred, "Oh really…  Let's see, then, shall we?"

"As you will."

"I do."

"What's with the circles?" whispered Ron to Hermione as Trish and Harry fired off their first spells.  When Trish's spell bounced off what appeared to be barrier, he got his answer.  "Oh."

"Yes," said Hermione, watching as Trish threw a Leg-Locked Curse at Harry.  It was deflected by the shield, followed by a hex from the dark-haired wizard.  The hex ripped through Trish's shield and hit her full on.  Immediately her legs began to move uncontrollably.

"Not funny!" she cried.

"Actually its quite amusing," shot Harry back, tilting his head to the side.  Hermione frowned at him as a part of her mind noted that he looked oddly like someone.  She just couldn't place who.

Trish muttered the counter spell and exclaimed, "How'd you get that through the shield?"

Harry grinned in an annoying way and replied, "Magic."

"Prat," growled Trish.

"Bint," shot Harry back.

"You are the most annoying person I have ever met."

Harry smirked and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, m'lady duMornè," he purred.

Trish laughed and said, "Shut up and duel, you nut!"

"Fine!  But my humor shall return for revenge!"

Trish laughed again and fired a hex that was blue in color at Harry.  It went through the shield but Harry ducked – although his wand arm went up.  The hex swooshed past the tip of his wand and he yelled, "_Remitto!_"

The hex came to a halt on the end of Harry's wand and he spun about, slinging the hex back at Trish.  She threw up a shield within the regular shield but was thrown out of the circle as the hex shot through both.  Coming up hard against the far wall, she gasped for breath, dark green eyes wide.

Harry rushed over to her and muttered something before he helped her to her feet.  The shorter girl scowled at him and snapped, "How come you haven't taught me that!"

The sixteen-year-old tilted his head to the side and smiled.

"Because I just made it up."

Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione gasped, "_I beg your pardon?_"

Harry turned towards her and said, "I made it up just now."

"But you can't have, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione.  "Spells can't be created that fast!  They take _months!_"

"Well, then I just broke that rule.  You ready to call it a night, Trish?  I've got Quidditch trials in the morning."

"_Oh no!_" moaned Ron.  He sprinted from the room, looking rather silly with his long arms out in front of him and his legs pin-wheeling slightly.

Trish chuckled and said, "Just like a cartoon."  She then smiled up at Harry and chirped, "Sure, Harry.  I've got a Potions essay to write anyway.  Is Snape always a bastard?"

"To Gryffindors," chorused Harry and Hermione as one.

"Right.  Well, I'm off to chain myself to a table in the library.  Ta!"

"Bai," said Harry.  As he turned towards Hermione, the grin that had been on his face dropped.  The bushy-haired girl was frowning up at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.  "Uh…"

"Explain."

"What?"

"How does she know so much about fighting?"

Harry shrugged and replied, "Her mother's a demon slayer."

Hermione's jaw dropped.  She then regained her composure and asked, "And why didn't you tell us about this?'

"As I said earlier, you didn't need to know."

"We could have learned too!"

"You don't need to know how to sword-fight, Mione."

"And you do?"

"Maybe," said Harry.  "Or maybe not.  I just…I just need something to do.  To keep my mind off…things."

He fell silent and Hermione felt a swoop of shame.  She should have known.

He was trying to keep Sirius off his mind.

"Harry…"

"Gotta go," interrupted Harry.  "Quidditch trials in the morning."

Hermione frowned and watched him as he left hurriedly, leaving her alone in the Requirement Room.


End file.
